Big Brass Bed

If i could lie in a bed of moss



and sleep and dream the nights away



i'd make the world count its cost



for a big brass bed







And rivers would lullaby me to sleep



as i'd curl up in a blanket of leaves



while you'd doze off to the drone of police



and the firing of lead







All the children are nestled snug in their beds



All the tvs blare curses and laugh at the dead



and the vagabond runs from this Vagabond Age







For the castles down the block have electric private eyes



and the neighbor gives you looks that say you're somewhat despised



and your car that's been stolen makes you almost want to cry out for



the firing of lead.







You shuffle your papers you'll take to the zoo



you frown on the way and then smile upon cue



and everyone know just what they're supposed to do



for their big brass bed







If i could lie in green pastures and rest



far from alarms and the cold hard cement



i'd send all the world my bill for its rent



and its big brass bed